Every 30 seconds
by PlasticBrains
Summary: A few months after the events of the movie Hannibal.Clarice is still at the F.B.I. with Dr. Lecter still on her mind... and she on his...  But someones taking photographs...  *FOLLOWS MOVIE CANON*
1. Chapter 1

_Chapter 1_

_Reunion_

This was by far the worst thing Clarice could have done in her attempt to forget him. But it wasn't as if she'd intentionally gone looking for such a website. She'd simply been reading through a forum when she'd come across a comment from someone mentioning the numerous sites dedicated to sightings of the good doctor. She couldn't help herself; she had to see for herself what these seemingly insane people were up to.

Many nights before, she'd found a site that looked promising. It was titled 'Hannibal's haunts'. It was a cheesy name but it looked incredibly professional and soon she was looking through an enormous archive of photos that people had submitted of the doctor. Even through a photograph his deep eyes penetrated her mind and she could hear his voice in her head.

"_Tell me Clarice, would you ever say to me 'Stop. If you loved me, you'd stop?'"_

She'd replied defiantly _"Not in a thousand years" _which was a lie. But now she thought about it she realised that had she replied in any other way she might have found herself dead in that fateful kitchen. Sometimes she still found herself awake at night remembering the feeling of the kiss he'd placed on her lips. Her heart, then and now, seemed to be making a desperate attempt to jump out of her chest. She closed off the thought with great effort, before switching off the computer walking upstairs to her bedroom and falling into bed fully clothed.

Clarice's week had been exhausting. No scratch that, she thought as she was beginning to drift off, the last three months since the fateful event at the lake house had been exhausting. After that thought Clarice drifted off into a light sleep.

But down on the first floor of Clarice's small townhouse a shadow flickered across the backdoor entrance, through the kitchen and up to the little computer desk which sat next to a bookshelf in the corner of the open living room. Dr. Lecter pushed the on button and the computer responded with a low hum. He'd watched Clarice for many nights at the computer, casing out the loudness of the machine to evaluate whether she would not be awoken whilst he further investigated the strange site dedicated to him that he'd seen over her shoulder.

Dr. Lecter entered the internet browser and clicked on the history tab. To be honest he was mildly surprised with the lack of security Clarice took being an F.B.I. agent. She hadn't cleared her Internet history in the last six months. He'd have very much liked to investigate her other Internet haunts but instead clicked on the site 'Hannibal's haunts'. He always found it odd when looking at pictures others had taken of him. Many had been taken in Italy, London, and Paris and even during a recent visit he'd paid to the University library in Vilnius. It was the first time he'd set foot in his birth country of Lithuania in more than thirty years.

Dr. Lecter went to the about page in search of some information on the creator of the website but was met with a sorry note from the creators that in the case 'Hannibal the cannibal' didn't like what they were doing, they preferred to remain anonymous. There was, however an address in which contributors (all anonymous) could send in photos. It was a post office box in Washington, easy to monitor if he wanted to.

The computer started to groan as if protesting at the lateness of the hour. Dr. Lecter turned off the computer, scribbled something on a piece of paper and weighed it down with a bottle of perfume on the kitchen bench top. He then slipped out of the house and into the night.

And just in time too because not two minutes later Clarice walked down the stairs, her Glock 23 held tightly in her hands and her footsteps muffled by hallway carpet. She sworn she'd heard someone downstairs. She checked all the locks and windows. Everything was untouched, if someone had broken in they would have had to put excessive force in and Clarice would have heard them. Clarice calmed slightly when she could find no evidence of intruders so, with a film of sweat clinging to her forehead, she headed for the kitchen to grab a glass of water. She opened the refrigerator door but stopped in her tracks. The light from inside the refrigerator had illuminated a shadowy patch on the kitchen bench top and she felt incredibly stupid for not having spotted it before. She moved her hand cautiously towards the bottle of perfume which reflected yellow patches of light onto the bench top when the light from the refrigerator reached it. She paused momentarily to watch the light dance before grabbing the bottle and opening the lid. She placed the bottle at elbow height and took a delicate sniff. It was the exact same perfume Dr. Lecter had composed as a hand cream to scent the letter she'd received all those months before. It had of course been a clue to his whereabouts (which had at the time had been Florence, Italy) and she'd handed up the letter to be fingerprinted but she'd always remembered that scent. She was actually quite glad to have a bottle of it now. But what Clarice was most interested in was the note that accompanied the bottle. She opened the note and began to read...

_My dearest Clarice,_

_I hope you feel as well as you look. I had to come back to check whether or not the F.B.I. was giving their star agent a hard time over yet another failed attempt at capturing me. I hope it doesn't bother you much Clarice that whilst you have to sit there in those cold grey capitalist buildings by day and grovel to you unappreciative masters I have been relaxing at my own leisure in the superb home I have recently acquired. It is small but still grand. The grounds are quite large, with many walking trails where you won't encounter the blonde journalist who interrupted your jog this morning. _

_Now you could hand this up to your masters and continue with some bootlicking (which may I add you might need to increase when they read the contents of this letter) or you could keep it locked away safe and hidden and dress for dinner and a show tomorrow evening at 6,_

_Ta ta, Hannibal Lecter M.D._

_P.S. _

_I took the liberty of purchasing another bottle of the perfume for you. I do hope you wear it as I can only begin to imagine how it compliments that already beautiful smell of your skin,_

_H. _

Clarice put down the letter, her hands shaking but she was not sure whether it was fear, repulsion or something that she tried to put out of her mind but failed miserably; anticipation. But this only lasted a second before anger flared up. The nerve of him to enter her home while she was there (she'd registered with shock that she'd accepted the fact that he'd enter her house, it was what he did) and he'd watched her while she'd ran this morning. This was getting out of hand, after all that had happened Dr. Lecter still watched her… and she still wanted him too.

"No," She cried in frustration, trying to fight something that she knew was already set in stone. She slumped onto the chequered tile of her kitchen floor. She wasn't sure how long it was before she fell asleep there.

When her wristwatch alarm woke her at six am she found herself lying in her own bed. She couldn't remember how she got there but that question was soon answered when her hand came across a piece of paper lying on the sheets next to her. She picked up the paper and read. It held only three words…

'_Sleep Well Clarice'_

Clarice sipped her coffee under duress, it tasted like dishwater and she only drank it for the caffeine hit. She was meant to begin sorting out her collection of case files on Dr. Lecter. Usually when she sorted through case files she read them to see if any information needed clearing before putting them correctly into the filing cabinet, but this morning she opted to just sort them into the filing cabinet. She knew it would not be long before they asked her to pick up his case again because she was the only person that had ever got remotely close to catching him. But maybe the reason was just vane hope as she shuddered to think what would happen to any other agent were they to be assigned to this case. She remembered reading the case file on the man who'd first incarcerated Dr. Lecter at the asylum. He'd nearly been gutted by the doctor in the process and was currently leading a very secretive retirement with his wife and child. Even Clarice wasn't allowed to know the location of Will Grahams home. But she expected people higher up in the Bureau would have the location on hand if they ever needed his assistance again.

She threw down a case file on the floor and a picture of Lecter's fourth victim Mason Verger slid out of the file. He'd been the one that had survived the longest and she'd been present at his death not a few months back. She shuddered at the memory and pushed her chair back from her desk. She needed coffee that tasted better than the dishwater they offered in the vending machine down the hall. She placed her sunglasses over her eyes, grabbed her bag and jacket and exited the Bureau building. She crossed the road and entered the little coffee shop that was a favourite haunt of many F.B.I. agents at lunch time, she waved hello to the owner of the café. A spindly old lady with bright pink hair tied in a high ponytail. Clarice had a suspicion that she'd once been a hippie. She paid for her coffee, exited the store and crossed the street back to her office.

Clarice sat on the little stool in front of her dressing table. She wore the black V-neck dress that Hannibal had chosen for her last time they'd had dinner together… with Paul Krendler. She chose to wear it for two reasons, one she had nothing else suitable to wear and two she knew that it would hopefully distract Dr. Lecter from his little mind games he always played with Clarice. She buckled the strap of her black heels, another generous gift from Dr. Lecter. She saw that it was still a quarter past five and she'd only gotten ready so early out of nervousness. She went to the kitchen, poured some of her trusty old friend Jack Daniels into a glass and went to the armchair in the corner of the room. She took several sips before deciding to close her eyes for a moment. But perhaps a moment too long as she soon fell asleep.

Clarice woke with a start not quite knowing what roused her, she raised her eyes to the kitchen door and sat up straight with a yelp as standing in the door way of her Kitchen was Dr. Lecter, dressed in an impeccably well cut suit. Clarice glanced up at the clock; it was exactly six.

"You weren't answering your door Clarice so I decided to check up on you."

"Since when do you ever come to the front door Doctor?"

A small smirk found its way into the Doctors features.

"It is only polite when escorting a lady to first knock upon her door."

"You could have been seen," Clarice replied seriously. Her heart was thumping loudly in her chest at the mere presence of him.

Dr. Lecter kept on smirking and walked up to the chair in which Clarice now sat like stone. She tensed as Dr. Lecter extended a hand towards her cheek but at his touch her muscles relaxed and strange electricity jolted through her stomach. Dr. Lecter could hear her heart as he stroked her cheek. It was beating very fast. He rather unwillingly pulled his hand from her cheek and cleared his throat.

"We have reservations Clarice and we mustn't be late."

Clarice nodded not being able to speak a word and let him lead her out by (much to Dr. Lecter's delight) her hand. A black Mercedes with tinted windows sitting across the street turned out to be there destination. Clarice noted as the locking system clicked and was just about to reach for the handle when her hand was barred by the Doctors hand. He held open the car door for her and closed it behind her before moving around to the other side of the car.

He pulled the driver's door closed and started the engine before turning to her.

"Might I say Clarice you look positively dazzling this evening, I've always loved that dress on you," Dr. Lecter winked at her and then turned to face the road. Clarice quietly thanked him as they drove off. It was some time before they spoke again.

"Where are we going for dinner Dr. Lecter?"

"You may call me Hannibal if you'd wish Clarice and I'd assure you It wouldn't be disrespectful," Hannibal turned the car off a side street and came to a main road, "And with regards to where we are going I wouldn't want to spoil the surprise."

Clarice nodded, racking her brains for the names of upmarket restaurants that were renowned for good wine. She knew that would be a requirement for any dining area that Hannibal graced. Wait did she just think graced?

Clarice was brought back from her thoughts as the car pulled to a stop outside red brick restaurant with a patio dining area containing beautifully sculptured cast iron tables and chairs. There were vines climbing up the poles that held up the roof of the dining area. The whole area was lit with golden light from antique looking street lights. Inside was exactly the same except the walls were adorned with beautiful frescoes that depicted architecture in Florence and Venice. Hannibal led Clarice over to the reception desk.

"Two at quarter past six for Renfrew?"

The waiter nodded and showed us to a table in the corner of the room next to a fresco of the Palazzo Vecchio. She remembered the last time she's set eyes on that building. It was a CCTV video showing Chief Inspector Rinaldo Pazzi hanging from the third floor balcony, his guts spilling onto the street below. Hannibal's face had been visible in the shadow of the balcony doorway.

Clarice averted her eyes away from the painting and turned them towards Hannibal. He was staring intently into her eyes. A small smile printed across his features as he reached out and handed her a menu. She picked up the menu and after a few minutes they both ordered their dinners.

Soon the waiter brought the wine and Hannibal poured a glass for them both. He handed the glass to her before raising his glass.

"To Italy," Hannibal spoke and they touched glasses. Clarice took a few sips and found that the wine was mercifully stopping the electricity shooting around her stomach. She sighed, looked at Hannibal and smiled.

Hannibal did not smile.

"Clarice, go to the bathroom, get cleaned up and meet me back at your house in fifteen minutes. Leave through the side entrance."

Clarice was so startled by what he said that she didn't have time to think about what she was doing. She found herself following his orders and soon she was out in the dark alley between the restaurant and a second hand bookstore. She walked quickly hoping to reach the street and the street lights soon but suddenly someone grabbed Clarice's arm and placed a hand over her mouth to muffle a small strangled yelp.

"It's just me, my dear," Hannibal's voice whispered in her ear and though it may have seemed stupid Clarice relaxed. But as soon as the shock of being approached as such in a dark alleyway blew over she began to realise how close she was to Hannibal. She was pressed up right against his body and her skin became suddenly very tingly.

Hannibal removed his hand from her mouth.

"A couple of your fellow agents came by, obviously to pick up some take away. They'd just finished for the day as they were still in uniform. But that may just be a ploy." Hannibal paused for a second to listen, "I believe it might be advisable for us to continue our little soirée back at your house."

Clarice nodded not daring to breathe a word for she knew she would be heard. Hannibal didn't need to fear such a thing because his voice seemed to be a part of the shadows, or so was the impression Clarice gained.


	2. Chapter 2

_Chapter 2_

_Soiree_

Clarice looked across the room to where Hannibal sat on her sofa. He was staring at a painting she'd found in a flea market. It had a little stone cottage in the background and in the foreground was a river with a stone bridge. A young woman walked by the river whilst another stood in the middle of the bridge. The colours reminded Clarice of the cold and drizzly days back on her Uncles farm. It reminded her of the night she'd escaped with her lamb. She suddenly didn't like the painting as much anymore.

She poured Hannibal a glass of wine. He'd retrieved the bottle of wine from the restaurant on their departure and Clarice was grateful. Otherwise all she would have had to offer Hannibal was a glass of Jack and she knew he was more of a wine man.

Clarice walked over towards Hannibal and sat on the other end of the sofa. There was enough room between them to sit two whole other people. She handed Hannibal a glass and thought she might have seen a flash of disappointment in his penetrative eyes when he observed the distance between them. Clarice sipped her wine slowly.

"You should come away with me," Hannibal suggested, breaking the silence.

"I don't know..." Clarice replied hesitantly. It was enough to allow herself to go on a date with Hannibal and not arrest him. This was something on an entirely different level.

"Oh I think you do Clarice. I think you've known for a very long time but you've just never let yourself admit it."

And, as usual, Hannibal had seen right through Clarice's lie. He'd also seen the truth.

"Run with me Clarice."

She closed her eyes briefly as he said his name. The sound of him speaking her name always sent a thrill through her but also an amount of wariness surfaced as she remembered where Hannibal had been sitting when he'd first spoken her name... and what he'd been in there for.

Hannibal put his wine glass down, took hold of her hand and pulled her close to him from across the sofa. She was now as close to him as she had been in the alleyway and her skin once again tingled. Hannibal placed her glass on the table next to the couch, pulled her hand to his mouth, the mouth that had done so many evil abominable things, and kissed it.

"You have no need to be wary Clarice. I think you know that I won't ever hurt you," Hannibal softly, "As I've told you before and I'll say it again, the world is more interesting with you in it."

Clarice said nothing but instead lifted up a hand and traced a fingertip across Hannibal's cheek. Hannibal reached for her finger and put it too his lips. He placed a kiss on her fingertips and then pulled her so she now sitting on his lap. If it wasn't for the wine in her stomach the electricity would have started again. As it were, warmth blared in the pit of her stomach as Hannibal leant down and claimed her mouth. What senses of Hannibal's that weren't engulfed by the scent of her became engulfed by the taste of her. Ever since the kiss he'd stolen from Clarice in the kitchen of the lake house he'd yearned to claim her lips again. And when he kissed her that was exactly what he did. Hannibal Lecter claimed Clarice for his own, not just her lips but Clarice as a whole.

She was his and she had always been his since the day they'd first met.

Clarice responded enthusiastically by putting her arms around Hannibal's neck as they kissed. She lost a bit of her balance as he explored her mouth and eventually he was the one supporting her. They turned so she lay on her back on the sofa. She suddenly became very glad in her purchase of a four seater.

A groan escaped her lips as he moved down to her neck. Her skin was boiling hot wherever he touched her. Clarice moved slightly to allow her arms movement. Hannibal stopped for a second to see what she was doing. She lowered the neck of her dress so both of her breasts were out in the open. They peaked already from exposure to the cold air and with a growl of animalistic pleasure threatening to escape his chest, Hannibal leant down to taste them. As his lips closed in around her left nipple Clarice let out a mingled gasp of pleasure and torture. She'd never been suckled before and very much enjoyed it.

While his mouth was busy with one breast Hannibal's hand swept over her other. His fingertips swirled around her exposed nipple and with every touch a fire grew hotter in Clarice's belly. After long all she could concentrate on was that fire and Hannibal of course. It would be completely impossible for her mind to wander to such things as how morally wrong this was.

Clarice sat up slightly to allow Hannibal room to sweep the rest of her dress off of her and chuck the useless piece of clothing to the floor. And before Clarice had a chance to respond Hannibal swept Clarice up into his arms and proceeded to explore her neck once again as he carried her upstairs to her bedroom.

Hannibal deposited Clarice on top of the bed and before he could anything she was at his chest, ridding him of his dinner shirt. As she ran her fingers down his exposed chest the growl Hannibal had been withholding before escaped. At the sound of it Clarice felt an almighty jolt in the pit of her stomach.

Hannibal knew that as this was there first time together that he should go slowly. He knew that shred of wariness still remained in Clarice. He could only do one thing to fix that; he would show her how much he cared. So Hannibal went slowly. He went over every inch of her skin before finally reaching her core. It was then that the strained and erratic whimpering coming from Clarice became constant.

As Hannibal worked away Clarice tried hard not to move as she revelled in the torturous touch of his mouth. Hannibal growled quietly and gently nipped the inside of her thigh. Clarice let out a gasp. The bite hadn't broken the skin but it still twinged... in a surprisingly good way. Clarice found that the little snap of pain heightened her arousal further. She was nearly at breaking point.

"Hannibal..." She called urgently and it was enough for him to understand. He rose up and stripped off the rest of his clothing. She grinned quickly when she saw his arousal. Hannibal placed a hand on her face and kissed her heatedly.

"Hannibal..."

"You can't turn back now Clarice," He whispered, "You'll come with me now?"

She nodded breathlessly. Hannibal pulled closer and entered her.

A cry rent the air of the room.

Hannibal slept deeply that night despite the fact that he was not generally a deep sleeper. By the time he awoke he was surprised that Clarice had gotten out of bed and left the room without him even noticing. He looked at the time, it was still early. She would still be here and surely enough his ears picked up the quiet tapping of a keyboard far below him.

Hannibal got dressed and walked downstairs to the living room. Clarice sat with her back to him at the computer desk, she was wearing a black wide neck scoop t-shirt and a pair of three quarter black cargo shorts. Her feet were bare.

Hannibal walked up to her but she was so engrossed in the word document she was typing in that she didn't hear him until he was right behind her. She tensed for a second before she felt familiar hands on her shoulders. He placed a rough kiss behind her ear and he felt her whole body shudder in pleasure.

"What are you doing Clarice?"

"Letter... for work..." she managed to get out between gasps. Hannibal was kissing the side of neck repeatedly and slowly moving down to her shoulder.

"Now why," a kiss on the collarbone, "would you be bothering?"

"Because," Clarice struggled to form words, "Leaving without resigning would be..."

But Hannibal didn't quite catch the end of her sentence as he claimed her lips once again.

"That's my girl," He replied when he finally pulled away, "leaving without resigning would be suspicious and there would definitely be a large search for you straight away. But by resigning and leaving no one would miss you for a while."

Clarice nodded.

"It wouldn't do for them to follow us."

A feeling of joy swelled in Hannibal's chest. Clarice was going to come with him wherever they decided to go.

"But they will eventually I suppose," Clarice sighed as she got up for her chair and enveloped him in a hug. Hannibal breathed in the scent of her copper silk hair, savouring it. Then he glanced over her shoulder towards the computer. He could quite easily read the word document from where he was.

It was a resignation letter.

"My dear Clarice you do not waste time do you? A resignation letter already composed?"

Clarice nodded, trying not to hide a smile.

"All I need to do is print it and sign it. I have to give them one month's notice before I can leave."

And with that Clarice turned around and hit the print button. After it was printed she grabbed a pen, signed her name, put the letter in an envelope and sealed it. She wrote _'Jack Crawford' _on the front and put it inside her handbag.

"In only one month you'll never have to crawl on hand and knee for those who don't appreciate it. In one month the terrible rudeness being shown to you will end Clarice," Hannibal ended this statement by claiming Clarice's lips again. His kisses moved down her neck occasionally interrupted by a sharp nip which never left a mark. Clarice clung tight to his body as he went trying desperately though to keep a straight head as she needed to speak.

"As much as I'm enjoying thi-" Clarice gasped as his hands found her breasts through the thin material of her t-shirt, "I really must get to work to hand this in."

Hannibal growled and nipped her shoulder so hard that pinpricks of blood emerged. Clarice gasped in a mixture of pain and pleasure. Hannibal's tongue worked over the sight, mopping up the blood quickly before turning to look into Clarice's eyes that had a very glazed over appearance at the present moment. Clarice locked eye contact with Hannibal and saw a wild fire in his pupils.

"You must get to work Clarice," Hannibal said softly. Leading her towards the door of the house and closing it behind her. He saw her glance back at him once last time with hunger in her eyes. He'd gotten his revenge on her for interrupting what could have turned into something to equal the spectacular event of the past evening. He'd done so by pushing her away when he'd made her as hungry as he'd been.

Hannibal smiled. He could be sure that her hunger would be with her all day and he made a promise to satisfy it when she returned home.

**a/n**

**Hello my lovely readers, **

**thanks to all who reviewed chapter one. I enjoy them as much as Dr. Lecter enjoys a good wine. Please review this chapter especially as I found this hard to write. I always find chapters that are semi-lemony (rhyme!) really hard to write. My writing doesn't flow when I write sex scenes so yeah... REVIEW! Please?**

**Next chapter up soonish, review and subscribe!**

**Lots of love**

**Ava xxx  
**


	3. Chapter 3

_Chapter 3_

_Letter_

"Clarice."

Clarice looked up from the newspaper. At the door to her office stood Jack Crawford, his lips tight and his fists slightly clenched around a piece of paper. He stalked forward, placed the letter on her desk and towered over her.

"Yes Jack?"

"What the hell is this?"

"My resignation letter," She said simply, "I'm sorry Jack but I just can't work here anymore. I've got other dreams to carry out before I get too old."

"Clarice you're not even 35 yet! Most people are still trying to achieve their first dreams at your age!"

"I got in young," She replied calmly not giving a hint at the frustration that swelled inside her. Jack wasn't making this easy.

"Damn straight you did and it's because you're good. Your dedication and reasoning... it's what makes you one of the best damn agents we have."

"If I'm so good then why aren't I in behavioural science? You've always been a good mentor Jack and I consider you a good friend but you've held me back."

There was a heavy silence before Jack replied.

"You've been through the works Clarice. You caught Buffalo Bill. You shot the shot that killed Evelda Drumgo. You hunted a madman and barely got away with your own life. You've never been the same since Lecter. It haunts you, I can see it," Clarice didn't dare reply but instead wondered mildly what Jack would do if he ever found out about last night, "I didn't want you in behavioural sciences because you've been through enough. I didn't want to add any more baggage."

"That's very considerate of you Jack," Clarice replied calmly, "but I'm still leaving. Nothing's gonna change my mind."

"What are you going to do afterwards," Jack queried.

"I'm going to go on an adventure. I'm not sure where it will take me but I'm sure I'll have fun."

Jack nodded slowly at her obscure answer. He wasn't sure what she was hiding but he decided not to push it.

"Well you've got a month left and I'm you'll make good use of it. Maybe you might even catch Lecter," Jack let out a laugh and Clarice followed in a forced fashion. It was poor joke and they both knew it.

"Well goodbye Clarice."

"Goodbye Jack."

Jack Crawford closed the door behind him.

The man sat at a table. The coffee in his hand went untouched as he perused the screen of his camera. It was a Canon EOS 1000D and it took great quality photos. It was also rather compact for a professional camera so it was easy to use when taking photos of an unaware subject. Clarice Starling was an unaware subject and he had plenty of photos of her. In the photo's she was mostly alone but there was one photo which had caught his attention. In the photo Clarice was with a man. That man was Hannibal Lecter.

The photographer knew his face because as he often sold his photos to the _National Tattler_ he always liked to buy the paper and check for the use of any of them. So when Lecter's time (and murders) in Florence became public he'd read all about them.

In all honesty he felt very personally connected to the story of Clarice Starling. He'd been there at the capture of Buffalo Bill all those years ago. He'd been one of the photographers tipped off about Evelda Drumgo and he'd captured pictures of Clarice as she'd first left the lake house after another unsuccessful capture of that psycho monster. Well that's what he thought it had been; after seeing this photo he wasn't quite so sure. It had been taken outside of an Italian restaurant last night. Both had been dressed up for the evening. The picture was especially incriminating as it was a side shot of them smiling at each other across a table for two.

This photo could make him rich.

But he also knew he needed be extremely cautious.

Hannibal sat in the front seat of the black Mazda 626. The 1995 model was in top condition and might've appeared suspicious with its blacked out windows but it was perfect for what he had currently set out to do.

Hannibal's eyes were centred on a post office. It was on the corner of a set of busy crossroads so it had been difficult to find an appropriate parking spot where he could watch from a safe distance. Once he was settled he pulled out his field glasses and centred them on the entrance to the building. He'd done some research and discovered that the owner of the Post box number given on the website 'Hannibal's haunts' was a 'Layton Rutherford'. His driver's licence mug shot revealed he had a hollow face with watery blue eyes that seemed to sink back into his skull underneath a mop of greying brown hair. He was 48 and an internet programmer at a company not four blocks away from the post office.

The post office boxes here were accessed using an automated password system. One must swipe a key card and also type in a password before being allowed to access their mail. Since it was automated the system kept a record of all visits to post boxes. The Office intern had been very susceptive to charm and Hannibal now possessed the access records to Rutherford's post box.

Hannibal saw that Rutherford visited every morning before work to keep up with the large amount of mail he received.

It was almost eight fifteen when a blue Nissan pulled to the curb. A gangly figure wearing a tan overcoat climbed out of the car and with a quick flash of his face in Hannibal's direction the Nissan owner's identity was confirmed.

This was when Hannibal sprang into action. He got out of the car and placed a baseball cap on his head. He then slipped into a bombers jacket which had a patch printed on the breast reading '_Rick's Mechanics'_. He placed a pair of dark sunglasses over his eyes that allowed him to keep watch on the door of the post office while appearing to simply stroll down the street. Crossing the road he quickly slashed the front tire of Rutherford's Nissan before going to order a coffee at the corner cafe.

Rutherford exited ten minutes later. Hannibal walked amongst in the crowd behind him, sipping his coffee as he walked. He watched in delight as Rutherford stopped dead in front of his car.

"What the fuck?"

Rutherford circled the car checking for further damage. He turned around and spotted Hannibal sitting on a park bench or more so he spotted the patch on Hannibal's jacket.

"Sir, are you a mechanic?"

"Yes I am," Hannibal replied putting on a perfectly natural Washington accent, "Got a busted tire there?"

"Yeah some stupid kids must have slashed my tires, how far away is your garage?"

Hannibal pointed a finger towards a small side street that led into a deserted store yard.

"Just over there, come with me and I'll get Ricky to set a tire up for you. Say that's a 92' model?"

Rutherford nodded and followed Hannibal towards the small side street.

"How much further," He asked as Hannibal walked next to him.

"Oh only just through this gate," Hannibal replied opening the gate of the store yard. Rutherford walked ten meters and stopped in his tracks, looking around.

Hannibal moved swiftly, grabbing Rutherford and pushing him up against the fence.

"Hey! I don't have any money on me man! I don't have anything!" Rutherford spluttered, desperately trying to struggle out of Hannibal's grip.

"Oh I don't want money," Hannibal removed the Washington accent along with his hat and sunglasses. As Rutherford looked into those eyes his heart began hammering fast. Hannibal heard it with such clarity he was sure he'd be able to dance to the beat.

"You're… you're…"

"Good morning Mr Rutherford and how is your website going?"

"Wha-what website," Rutherford stuttered.

"Hannibal's haunts? Really I expected something... shall we say... a little more intelligent? But then again I've found that when sautéed with a little something even the most unintelligent of brains still tastes delicious."

And with that Rutherford collapsed in a dead faint. Hannibal considered him for a moment, tilting his head side to side and shrugging. He hauled Rutherford into a car he'd hidden behind a dumpster before tying him up and emptying the contents of Rutherford's bag onto the seat. Inside was a wallet, phone, keys, work ID card, Post office ID card, a couple of folders with work papers in them and a stack of mail. This was what Hannibal was looking for. He shuffled through the pile of letters which were mostly bills before decided to open one that had a handwritten address. He sliced the envelope open with his harpy, pulled out the letter and began to read.

_Rutherford,_

_ I have a photo of your websites subject and the F.B.I. agent who everyone knows he is quite taken with. I won't say much but I might just get a good deal of this through our good friend Mr. Blackmail. _

_If he doesn't crack then I'll give you the photo to hand to the F.B.I. I don't want to get involved in any shit that may go down. I mean I'm just a photographer not a politician and definitely not an F.B.I. agent. I'm just not cut out for that kind of crap. I'll keep you posted on how things are going._

_Charlie._

"That's interesting," Hannibal said conversationally as he noticed Rutherford coming to. But before he could fully awaken Hannibal took a needle from a case in his pocket and injected Rutherford with enough Pentothal to knock him out for a few hours. Hannibal climbed into the front and with one last glance back at his hostage he drove off.

**a/n**

**Hello my lovely readers,**

**Thanks to all those that reviewed and gave some tips and advice. Grammers never been my strong point and I've been getting tips on both grammer and sentence structure. Hopefully both will soon improve if I apply myself to editing vigorously.**

**PLEASE REVIEW AND SUBSCRIBE! It's what keeps me writing! (I swear it has nothing to do with my oh so demanding muse).**

**Thanks for reading!**

**Ava xoxo  
**


	4. Chapter 4

_Chapter 4_

_Option_

"Hannibal?"

Clarice's voice echoed throughout the empty house.

Dropping her bag on the couch, Clarice headed towards the refrigerator to grab an apple. She opened the refrigerator. On the top shelf was a box of chocolates and a note written in Hannibal's fine copperplate.

_My dear Clarice,_

_Sorry I couldn't be home to greet you, I had some time consuming business to attend to. But I'm sure I'll be seeing you later._

_Yours,_

_Hannibal_

Clarice's eyes rested on his name for a minute before she placed the letter on the kitchen cabinet. He had _time consuming business to attend to_… She didn't want to know the details though she had a fair idea...

Clarice stopped dead halfway up the staircase. She'd stopped feeling shocked about Hannibal's actions a long time ago but now the thought of them no longer turned her stomach.

"Great," She muttered, continuing up the stairs and heading towards her bedroom. She flopped in the middle of her bed and closed her eyes. She had not intended to go to sleep but she soon did.

It was later that night when Hannibal returned. Gently placing a kiss on Clarice's forehead he climbed into bed next to her and opened his arms. She nestled herself in his chest before sleep overcame her once again.

With his chin resting on the top of her flowing copper hair Hannibal let out a contented sigh. His little Starling was right where she belonged.

The remains of Rutherford had been properly disposed of after Hannibal had taken his bounty. Now he sat at his piano in the house by the park, his fingers caressing the keys and weaving the melody of 'Aria De Capo' throughout the building. Every now and again his nostrils would flare as he took in a smell. It was so close to him that it had begun weaving its way into the notes of the song, tucked away in the music hall of his memory palace amidst the notes of "Goldberg Variations' and 'Chopin's Nocturne 7'. The red and white roses arranged perfectly in a crystal vase atop of the piano next to the framed drawing of Clarice. Clarice with her dress slipping off her shoulder and the lamb by her side… Clarice.

The small phone in the kitchen began to ring. Hannibal rose reluctantly from the piano and went to answer it. He glanced at the caller and in that instant all reluctance to leave his instrument fell away at once.

"Hello Clarice."

"_Hannibal. There's something you need to see."_

Her voice shook as she spoke.

"What is it?"

He was already halfway to the car.

"_I can't tell you over the phone. Just be quick."_

"I'll be there soon."

Hannibal was already speeding along the road.

"_Be quick."_

The line went dead and Hannibal placed the phone in his pocket as he drove. His mind wasn't on the road as he drove but he never wavered in his driving. His mind was centred on Clarice and what could possibly make her so distressed.

He parked four houses down and walked around the back of her house and to the door. He let himself in knowing that right now, Clarice wouldn't care.

She was sitting on the very edge of the couch hunched over an Envelope in her hands. He walked forward and placed a hand on her shoulder, with the other hand he received the envelope. Once settled on the couch he examined the envelope: it was your average post office envelope. On the front of the envelope, in a familiar scrawl, was his name.

"Hannibal Lecter… How do they know you're here?"

"A photographer managed to capture a photo of us together at the Restaurant. He means to blackmail us."

Clarice gazed blankly at the carpet before shifting her gaze to Hannibal's face.

"It doesn't surprise me that you already know all this before you've even opened the letter."

"Simply done my dear, I recognised the handwriting from a letter I acquired earlier today from a source," Hannibal replied, fuelling her unvoiced curiosity.

"This source…?"

"Will no longer be useful to us," Hannibal replied, slicing open the letter with his harpy knife. He pulled out a piece of you average stationery shop printing paper. Unlined and therefore messily spaced the letter was written in blue ink. He read through it quickly before handing it to Clarice.

_Dr. Lecter,_

_I don't believe we've met before and I hope we never do so bar when it suits my intentions. You'll forgive me for not revealing my full identity; I don't want to become of your numerous victims. So I'll cut this letter short and say I have something that might chuck your little girlfriend in hot water; a photo of the two of you at the restaurant the other night. Now you have two options:_

_I can sell you the photo. Original and all negative's included. The price will be high but if the rumours are true it is nothing you won't be able to afford. You know what this photo could do and so I'm sure you won't object to a price of $2 million._

_OR_

_I could simultaneously hand a copy to the F.B.I. and your little Clarice Starling will be locked away forever. God knows what they'll do to get your whereabouts out of her. _

_But you're a smart guy and I'm going to cut you a break. I'll let you decided between the two options unless you try something stupid then I'll make the decision. I'll be in contact with Clarice soon so give her your reply,_

_Regards _

_ The Photographer_

Clarice stared blankly at the sheet of paper.

"They always forget to mention the third option," Hannibal said lightly, starting towards the door. Clarice took hold of his hand, stopping him in his tracks.

"Are you going to kill him?"

"If it comes to that then I'll do what needs to be done," Hannibal gripped Clarice's hand tightly as he spoke. His voice never wavered as he spoke.

"Please don't let it get to that."

"That will be his decision," Hannibal replied, turning to leave.

"Please Hannibal," Clarice called as he walked out the door. But there was no reply.

Clarice wrung her hands as she paced the lounge room. She could follow him but Hannibal would know straightaway. She hated it but realised she had to stay put. There was nothing she could do.

She _hated _this.

**a/n**

**Hello my lovely readers!**

**First of all SORRRY! For two reasons. One: for taking so long to update and Two: For giving you such a short chapter... I truly am sorry but writers block has lately been eating my soul and This chapter was short but it was finished and it was SOMETHING! Something is better than nothing right? So yeah. Sorry about the lateness and the shortness and all other bad 'ness's but please review this chapter! Gladly I can confirm that Chapter 5 is almost halfway done already so you guys are in luck!**

**Till next time!**

**Love,**

**Ava**

**xoxo**

**p.s. REEEEEEVVVIIIIEEEEEWWWW!  
**


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